


girl talk

by desdemona (LydiaOfNarnia)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, Shopping, gal pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-07
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-07 00:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6776857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaOfNarnia/pseuds/desdemona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's <i>knows</i> that she's never been good at making female friends -- and certainly not keeping them. That doesn't mean she doesn't want to try. </p><p>Momoi runs into Riko at the mall. (also known as "let basketball girls get along 2k16")</p><p>Written for <a href="http://momoisatsukiweek.tumblr.com/">Momoi Satsuki Week 2016!</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	girl talk

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for day three of momoi's week but i am late as usual so
> 
> As i watched through KnB, i was really bothered by how little interaction the two main female characters had? And even worse was the fact that whenever Momoi and Riko were together it seemed like all they could do was glare at each other or get caught up in some false Girl vs Girl rivalry. Momoi kind of has a really crummy attitude towards Riko in a lot of their interactions and I wanted to... fix that. So, friend fic. Or, ship fic. Pre-slash, I guess, but I didn't really have much in mind while writing this except a constant mantra of "get along, you two, gET ALONG PLEASE"

It was a simple fact that Satsuki had always gotten on better with boys than she did with girls. There was no particular reason behind it -- or at least that’s what she deduced, three weeks into her final year of elementary school and finding herself desperately lonely without Daiki by her side for the first time in years. Perhaps therein lay the root of it: throughout both of their childhoods they had always been a joint unit. Rarely would their parents call one name without following it with the other -- _Daiki and Satsuki, Satsuki and Daiki_. With the blue haired boy as her closest friend since kindergarten, she had found that she never really needed to make many other friends. Daiki had a natural force of attraction to him, drawing people in wherever he went. Satsuki was more subdued, and she preferred it that way.

So when she entered middle school, she was dismayed to find that getting along with the girls in her class was more difficult than she’d even imagined. Lacking a working knowledge of both makeup and fashion, and much more interested in basketball than the most popular J-pop group, she quickly realized that conversation topics withered and died as painfully as she thought them up. It wasn’t any wonder that after a while she began to drift apart from the other girls in her grade. Blessed with a fair face and a sharp mind, her peers were naturally wary of her; while a part of her despised it, another (more selfish, wicked) part of her enjoyed her name being whispered reverently (or bitterly) by people who noticed her.

And then came the Generation of Miracles.

She had naturally gravitated towards the basketball club, and that had been where she had found her true friends. Among people who shared her passions, who acknowledged her skill without being intimidated by her; this was where her niche had always been. Here her sharp powers of observation and keen analytical skills could be put to good use. She knew the game inside and out; she discovered how easily it was to predict a player’s next movement if you just managed to look at them through the cool lens of a rational mind. It wasn’t long before she became invaluable to the team; Daiki accepted her, and the rest of the the Miracles were quick to follow.

And she loved them. She really did. They were her friends -- gentlemanly Akashi, solemn Midorima, energetic Kise, childish Murasakibara, _Daiki_ \-- and of course, Kuroko. Her Kuroko. These were the people who filled her middle school days, who reminded her how it felt to have friends and be accepted amidst a group. Kise had been the one to teach her about makeup; the boy could do things with eyeliner that would make grown women weep. Midorima would often examine her notes, in admiration of her consistently high academic scores. Even Murasakibara, annoying as he could be, wasn’t so bad all the time; he gave Satsuki a piece of his chocolate bar once, and she felt her heart soar with joy. When Kuroko looked at her, she felt important.

Of course, she had other friends -- girl friends, people she talked to and giggled with and found conversation easy and uncomplicated. But that was all they were -- shallow friends, who still saw her as Pretty Satsuki, Smart Satsuki. They didn’t understand all the things she loved, not like the Generation of Miracles did.

Things fell apart, soon enough. Satsuki couldn’t say she hadn’t predicted it, because she had.

After that, managing Aomine became a full time job. Entering high school, the realization came slowly, and then all at once -- Satsuki didn’t have time for female friends. She didn’t even want them. She’d had her friends, and they had gone their separate ways, and that… simply was that.

♕♕♕

If there was one thing Satsuki loved, it was shopping. She loved the mall -- the endless array of stores, different outfits to try on and things to buy, and so many people to observe. Something about the mall always just made her feel warmer inside; as if a store could be filled with just as many possibilities as a human being. But in a way, she supposed it made sense -- when a person was feeling down, mall crawling could be just as comforting as a friend’s shoulder to cry on. And unlike _some people_ , stores didn’t talk back to you.

As it turned out, the mall’s promise of possibility was fulfilled one day -- and it took Satsuki completely by surprise.

Of all the people she might have expected to run into in the physics section of her favorite bookstore, Seirin’s coach was not at the top of the list. Yet there Aida Riko was, in all her unmistakeable glory -- for as much time as she’d spent analyzing every aspect of the Seirin team, she was pretty sure that by now she could pick their coach out of a lineup blindfolded. Yes, it was Riko, short stature, short hair, small boobs, and all.

Satsuki didn’t know why she did it, honestly -- maybe it was because the Winter Cup tournament had ended almost a month ago; maybe it the whisper in the back of her head reminding her that getting close to the “enemy” lets you understand them better; maybe it was the pressing reminder that after all this time at Touou, she had still yet to make one female friend, and was in the process of spending yet another Saturday wandering the mall alone. Whatever the reason, she went up to Riko anyway.

“Hi!” she chirped, and the Seirin coach’s shoulders tensed in surprise; she obviously hadn’t expected to be bothered. Satsuki watched her spin around, ready to turn away any overly-helpful sales assistant with a benign smile, only for the politeness to drop from her face when she was met with an eyeful of pink hair and a cheery grin.

“Fancy seeing you here, Riko-chan!”

Riko blinked; it was obvious that she was trying to figure out just what Satsuki wanted, and had it been any other circumstance Satsuki might have almost been offended. “Yeah… I didn’t expect to see you here either,” she replied, sounding vaguely uncomfortable. “I needed to pick up some books for class…” Her eyes caught on the two hardcovers tucked under Satsuki’s arm, and she seemed to regain some familiar footing. “You too, huh?”

Satsuki glanced down at the books she’d picked up, explaining some of the more complex mathematical theorems they weren’t even going to begin teaching in class. She’d picked those up for pleasure reading. A nervous chuckle escaped her. “Yeah… for class, of course. Are you looking for anything in particular? I can probably find it for you!”

Riko shook her head. “I’ve got what I need.” Then, with a slight furrow of her brow: “You really know this bookstore that well?”

Oh no. Had Satsuki sounded like a nerd? (Daiki was always telling her she sounded like a nerd, but that was _Daiki_.) Had she come on too strong? She giggled again, a high-pitched noise that was more anxious than amused; she didn’t miss the way Riko winced at the sound. “I come here all the time, actually. I get books on game theory, and math, and history… pretty much everything that catches my eye! They have so many interesting books here, you know?”

“Yeah…” Riko took a step to the side, her gaze flickering towards the check-out counter for half a second; Satsuki picked up on the cue and immediately started walking with her own books. Maybe at a loss as to what else she should do, Riko followed.

“And they really do have a great sports section! They have books on basketball, volleyball, tennis, cycling, even American football! That’s such a funny sport… it’s hardly as interesting as basketball in my opinion, don’t you agree? And their fiction section is pretty great too, even though I don’t read a lot of fiction, but you seem like the type of girl who’d enjoy stuff like that…” (Was that an insult? Satsuki wasn’t trying to insult her, really.) “Which is a great thing! If you even do like fiction -- do you read a lot? I’m sorry, I just realized I have no clue if you’ve ever been here before in your life! If --”

“I’ve been here before,” Riko cut her off, handing her money to the cashier with a small smile before taking her bag of purchases in hand. “It’s the closest bookstore to my house. And the only one in this mall. I read enough to know that.”

She sounded testy, Satsuki realized; discreetly nibbling on the inside of her lip, she cursed herself for her own ineptitude. Why was this so difficult? It was so easy to get along with boys -- their heads were simple to her, easy to understand and predict. Riko was different. She was complicated in a way people like Daiki or even Captain Imayoshi never seemed to be for Satsuki. She was as baffling as other girls Satsuki knew, the ones she could never quite manage to get close to.

She couldn’t figure Riko out. For Satsuki, this was a foreign feeling, and she didn’t like it at all.

If she knew what was good for her, she would just give up. She would leave Riko to her shopping in peace, go off on her own merry way, and not mention this encounter to Daiki or anyone else ever again. She’d stop trying to figure out girls; maybe some enigmas were too great even for her.

As soon as this last thought popped into her head, Satsuki realized she wasn’t going anywhere. After all, you couldn’t be a member of the Generation of Miracles if you were willing to admit defeat without putting up so much as a fight.

She widened her smile, allowing it to stretch her cheeks and flash the whites of her teeth in the sweetest manner she knew (a smile typically reserved for charming Tetsu-kun, coaxing Aomine, speaking to teachers and coaches). Maybe it was just her imagination, but she could almost had thought that a flash of fear crossed Riko’s expressive eyes. (Then again, maybe not -- this was Aida Riko, after all, and Satsuki wouldn’t have been surprised if she feared nothing in the world.)

♕♕♕

Two hours, six stores, and fourteen shopping bags later, Riko finally snapped. Satsuki was impressed. Based on the growing signs of irritation in Riko’s demeanor, the way she held her shoulders progressively straighter as time went on and flinched away from any sort of physical contact Satsuki dared to bestow, she’d have guessed that the coach would have snapped in half the time it took her to finally lose her temper.

The pink-haired girl took a large step back, words dying in her throat as Riko suddenly dropped her numerous assortment of bags to the ground. There had to be better places to do this than stopped dead in the middle of the mall; but as the shorter girl rounded on her, eyes wide and dangerous, Satsuki realized that Riko honestly didn’t care. There was something fierce in the expression she wore, something that caused a chill to run down Satsuki’s spine and made her swallow a lump of nerves down her throat.

“Why are you here?”

“What?”

“Why are you following me?”

Satsuki blinked, round rose colored eyes drifting from the one bag still clutched in Riko’s arms -- her purchases from the bookstore -- down to her own shopping bags, before she finally forced herself to meet the other girl's gaze. “I… thought we were hanging out.”

Riko made a soft sound somewhere between a cough and a groan. Satsuki tried not to feel discouraged.

“You know, as friends? Since we were both here, we both know each other, and we both have a lot in common --” Riko raised an eyebrow; Satsuki choked out a nervous giggle. “Like basketball, and books, and even if I've got better fashion sense that's nothing that can't be improved upon --”

“Stop!” Riko held up both hands, and the words died in Satsuki’s throat. “Please! All you’ve done for two hours is talk!”

Satsuki glanced weakly down at the shopping bags again. “We’ve… also shopped.”

“While you talked. And talked. When I go to sleep tonight, your voice will still be echoing in my head.” Riko took a step forward, and Satsuki involuntarily took a step back. Really, she thought, this girl could face off against Akashi and probably glare him down. Momoi felt like she was turning to liquid under the sheer force of Riko’s glare. “You’ve dragged me around the mall, to stores I don’t even know the names of, and all you’ve done is talk. Have you counted how many times you’ve insulted me today, Momoi-san?”

Satsuki’s throat felt very dry. “I… I haven’t, no.”

“Eight times. In two hours. If the comment wasn’t about my breast size, it was about my fashion sense, my hairstyle, and once even about my intelligence. Insult my hair all you want, insult my clothes, I don’t care -- but _don’t_ say I’m stupid, ever. Don’t even imply it.”

As Riko spoke, Satsuki felt a hot flood of shame slowly begin to fill her from the tips of her toes all the way up to the top of her head. She dug her fingernails into her palms, trying to pick out the truths in Riko’s statements -- she had made jabs at her, sure, and had tossed out more than a few comments on her style while picking through clothing racks at some of Satsuki’s own favorite stores -- but she hadn’t honestly thought Riko was bothered by it. She didn’t seem like the type of person to get so defensive over things like that anyway -- if she was, wouldn’t she put more effort into her appearance?

Maybe Riko had been a bit too quiet all day -- Satsuki cursed herself for not following up on her sense that something was off in the other girl’s behavior.

Riko wasn’t even done. She was still ranting, still spitting out words that cut into Satsuki’s skin like barbs. “I don’t even know why I’ve let you follow me for this long. Obviously you don’t have anyone else to spend the day with, and maybe I even felt bad for you -- but I’ve had enough. For someone as perceptive as you are, I really thought you would have more of a clue, but obviously you don’t Since clearly all you seem to want to do is insult and provoke me, I’m going to leave now before I get _really_ angry. Have a nice day, Momoi-san.”

Very deliberately beginning to scoop up her numerous bags from the ground, Riko turned her back on Satsuki. The girl felt her eyes begin to sting, though she was far too stubborn to actually let herself shed a tear over Riko’s harsh words; especially considering nothing she had said was _wrong_.

Satsuki really didn’t have a clue when it came to girl friends -- making connections with people of the same gender was difficult, almost an enigma after spending so much time alongside Aomine and the Generation of Miracles. She had been spoiled by easy interactions with people she could understand, so much so that she had forgotten -- or maybe never bothered to even learn -- how to talk to someone of her own gender. In her misguided effort to befriend Riko, she had insulted her and wounded her pride.

No wonder she didn’t have any female friends. What girl would want to be around her when she only seemed to know how to put others down?

Slowly, Satsuki walked over to the large marble fountain that graced the center of the mall; Riko didn't lift her head, busy gathering up the last of her bags. The pink haired teen sunk down to sit on the edge of the fountain, shoulders slumped and face pale.

She had to say _something_ , she realized. She couldn't just let Riko walk away like that.

“Riko-san! I --” Satsuki’s throat felt choked, and her voice came out hoarse. “I’m very sorry. I… apologize for offending you, and I hope you can… if not forgive me, find it in your heart not to hold the reputation of the Touou team responsible for my actions.”

Riko’s shoulders were drawn, her spine straight and back tense. Satsuki felt a nauseous churning in her stomach as slowly the girl turned to look at her, and she was unsurprised to find Riko’s expression as cool as ever.

“You… should be mad at me,” she admitted weakly. “I apologize, Riko-san. I really hope I haven't ruined your day.”

And she must have looked pathetic -- she must have really, really looked pathetic -- because inexplicably, something in Riko’s eyes softened.

Slowly, the coach approached the fountain and took a seat beside Satsuki. Her nose scrunched up, revealing a hint of dimples in her cheeks and making the few freckles scattered over her pale skin dance. “You really don't have many friends, do you?”

Satsuki shrugged, sniffing. “Do you?”

“Coaching and my grades take up a lot of my time -- but I have a few, yeah. We talk in class, and message each other a lot. It's just… surprising. A girl like you…”

Satsuki couldn't help but huff out a laugh at that. “A girl like me? What does that mean, Riko-san?”

Now it was Riko’s turn to look sheepish; she looked funny when her face got all flushed, Satsuki thought, a little bit like she was turning into a human cherry. “You're slim, and pretty, and outgoing. It seems like you'd be able to have anyone eating from the palm of your hand.”

Satsuki couldn't help but giggle at that; she tried to muffle it behind her hands, but it was still obvious that she was laughing, and even Riko huffed out a chuckle as she realized the absurdity of her own words. “I only wish it were that simple!”

“You are really lucky, though,” Riko continued, and Satsuki caught the other girl surreptitiously eyeing her breasts with furrowed brows. “Maybe you have a right to be confident…”

And therein lay the problem, Satsuki realized with a jolt. Maybe the reason she found it so difficult to connect with girls was because they found many things about her to be intimidating -- and she didn't make it any easier for them. Her comments about Riko’s chest size (offhanded, really, and probably picked up from spending too much time around Aomine) had implanted the idea in the other girl’s head that Satsuki thought she was superior.

And she _wasn't_ , not really. She had her skills; Riko had her own, and they were more than impressive. Riko had some of the best game sense Satsuki had ever seen, and was a more than adept coach.

Satsuki let out a long sigh, reclining back on her hands and allowing the ends of her hair to dangle perilously near the fountain’s surface. “Back problems,” she said.

Riko raised an eyebrow.

“As a B-cup, you'll never have to worry about back problems. I swear, sometimes it gets so bad that I almost feel like crying. I can't sleep on my stomach, do you know that? And when I go up stairs, I sometimes feel like my heart is going to give out on me -- you're the lucky one, really. I'm confident, but you have every reason to be as well.”

Whatever Riko had been expecting Satsuki to say, it certainly hadn't been that. She tilted her head slowly, an uncertain amusement dawning in her eyes. “... seriously?”

Satsuki nodded. “And perverts… honestly, sometimes I wish I could just be invisible so weird guys would stop looking at me. Then again, I don't think I could survive for long if no one ever knew I was around, so I take it back.”

This actually got Riko to chuckle, and Satsuki felt a stab of victory. “You actually aren't that bad, you know… I think you just lack a few necessary social skills. Nothing some practice won't fix. You can shape up in no time.”

Rose eyes lifted, widening with hope Satsuki barely dared to express. “Practice? You mean…”

Riko held up a finger. “There are rules. One, I have to be allowed to pick a few of the stores. Two, you need to stop _talking_ sometimes and actually let me speak.”

Satsuki chuckled, running manicured fingers through her hair. “That's a nervous habit, sorry.”

“Three, if you insult me -- accidentally or otherwise -- I'm going to point it out. Not only do you have to apologize, you have to revise your statement right then and there to turn it into a compliment… and you also have to do ten push ups.” At Satsuki’s automatic recoil, Riko grinned; there was an excited gleam in her eye that suddenly made Satsuki understand why this girl was so respected (and feared) by her team. “No arguments, the physical exertion will enforce the mental lesson. I've been suggesting to a few of my teachers that they take up physical activity in the classroom, but none of them seem very receptive to my ideas…”

Satsuki found herself grinning -- a genuine smile that she couldn't wipe off her face, even when she tried. Riko mirrored her expression, looking tentative but no less genuine.

“Riko-chan,” suggested Satsuki, “how about we go back to the bookstore? Like I said, they have a really great sports section…”


End file.
